Judgment Day
by Read Me And Weep
Summary: "Draco did not count the days. He did not allow himself the luxury of anything that allowed him to pass the time. The only thing he did allow himself to do was to dwell on the past, on his stupidity, on how he deserved everything he had coming to him."
1. Judge and Jury

AN: Wow this story started as something else so completely different. I've worked much longer on this story than any of my other ones, so I'm pretty proud of it despite the fact that it turned out utterly different than the songs it was originally based on. But I hope you enjoy it all the same!

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><p>"He's been asking for you."<p>

Hermione nearly froze at the words. The short phrase had little to do with what they were talking about; kitchen remodeling and what color paint best fit the light, but she still knew what it was about. And he knew, he knew that she hated to talk about him, especially with Ron. She couldn't talk about _him_ at all, but especially not with Ron.

"I'm sorry?" She looked up at him and her eyes were almost begging him to take it back, to drop it. _Take the bait, _she thought, _act like I didn't hear and let it go, just drop it._

Normally he would have dropped it. But today he didn't.

"Hermione, you know I don't want to do this, to have this conversation any more than you, but he's been asking for you for months. And his trial is coming up. We all know why he's there and not out here and you are the only thing, the only comfort he wants. He's holed up in a cell, he won't see anyone, won't talk to anyone, barely eats, hardly sleeps. It's awful. If you just—"

"If I just-what? What, Ronald? Go act like we're old pals. Act like he's never shredded my soul? Because I value how strong I am, but I am not that strong. And even if I were, I'm no masochist. I won't put myself through that again, like it would do any good anyways. Whether I see him or not, he'll continue to wither away. That's the way he wants it and he's done a damn good job making sure that it's what he gets."

Ron shook his head slightly. He was not eager to keep this up, but he had to try. And honestly he was making way in the matter; this was the first time he'd been able to get her to give in to discussion about the matter at all.

"Hermione, look, just think about it. All you have to do is go. Go and sit with him. Chances are he won't even talk. You know why he's doing this and you know as well as I that he doesn't deserve it."

And with that Ron got up, taking the _Prophet_ and a plate full of bacon and toast with him to enjoy it outside of the gloomy atmosphere that had just flooded the kitchen.

It only took a few days of her tossing and turning in her restless, nightmarish sleep before she knew she had to go and see him. Him. The man she had tried so hard to fix. She had thought she had, honestly, before he had ripped out her heart and performed a few Crucios on it before attempting to shove it back in. Maybe she had fixed him, but that wasn't the point. The point was he had broken her heart. And even though it had been years and years, the phantom pain in her heart never left, there was never a day that went by that didn't bring a reminder of the man she had loved, a reminder of him, of Draco Malfoy.

000

"Hermione did WHAT?" Ron bellowed, the color of his face nearly matching his hair.

"She ran off with… _him,_"

"I heard you. But she did WHAT? How could she be so irresponsible…so damn stubborn. We TOLD her it was a terrible idea, that Malfoy could handle it on his own. But no no, of course, he just smiles at her and she runs off with him and then she's got the nerve to tell all of us WE'RE the wrong ones, because bloody know-it-all Hermione bloody Granger has got to be…"

"I've got to what, Ronald?"

Ron was frozen from his pacing staring at his best friend, the blood draining from his face slowly.

Hermione plopped down on the sofa in the library of Grimmauld Place.

"Please, Ronald, continue, I would love to hear what you really think of me," she said, smirking.

Ron's face began to redden again, perhaps even a darker shade.

"And where the hell have you been off to?"

"Draco and I handled the mission in about an hour. We were in and out, no trouble at all, in fact if we hadn't done it together, it probably would have been a complete disaster, lucky we had each other, really…" she said, smirk still on her face.

"You can wipe that smirk right off your face. You've been spending far too much time with your precious Draco. Honestly, the way you're gallivanting around with him you'd think you'd forgotten how bloody recognizable your face is. You're not the spy, that's his job."

She dropped her smirk and turned to the other boy in the room.

"Harry, I told you not to tell him. I knew this would happen." She said exasperation lacing her voice.

Harry shook his head.

"There was no way I was not telling him. I'm with him, Hermione, you shouldn't have gone, you know better. You're letting your feelings cloud your judgment."

"Like that's ever stopped you before!" She exclaimed angrily jumping to her feet.

"And look where that's gotten me," He murmured to himself. "That's how people get hurt, Hermione. You're the clear headed one; you've got to see it."

She sank back down.

"Alright, alright."

0000

The memory faded. She had been so happy then. Though war was an integral part of their lives, she had been so happy. Her friends surrounded her, she had a mission, she was falling in love, but how did it all go so wrong? She truly believed that it was this inconclusiveness, this lack of reason, which bothered her the most. She just wanted closure she repeated to herself, but she was too angry to go and get it. Too hurt. And she didn't want anyone to know. She wanted to act stoic, to act like it was a childish fancy that she had gotten over long ago. She acted stony, because stoniness was the only way to hide her hurt. For God's sake, she was engaged to Ron, she couldn't be caught crying over another man, much less over one that had all but disappeared years ago. But it was obvious Ron knew her feelings for Draco had remained over the years, though warped by her pain, they remained; and that hurt her even more to know that Ron knew he was second in her heart and stayed by her side anyways.

000

Draco did not count the days. He did not allow himself the luxury of anything that allowed him to pass the time. The only thing he did allow himself was to dwell on the past, on his stupidity, on how he deserved everything he had coming to him. He was exactly where he wanted to be, locked up in Azkaban with all the other prisoners, all the prisoners that hated him because they knew he had been a spy. They luxuriated in his pain, and he allowed them to do so because it made him feel worse. And he was here for punishment, for mental and physical punishment, and that's what he would receive while he relived his worst memories, over and over again. Though sometimes he would allow himself a brief glimpse of the memories, he only did so if he really wanted to make himself hurt, when he hated himself so much he wanted the masochist inside to be let out, and then he allowed himself a look into his precious store of seemingly happy moments, because he knew his deceit was what hurt him the most. He was feeling particularly masochistic at the moment.

000

Hermione lay facing Draco, her naked body only covered by a thin sheet wrapped around both of them as they lay entwined with one another. He was propped up on his elbow slightly, looking down at her peaceful expression, the slightest hint of a smile on her face as she murmured his name and snuggled further into his chest. His post sex mind was on cloud nine as he allowed himself to relax into the pillows, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in his chest that told him this wasn't right.

000

The rattling of the door sliding open woke Draco up. He hadn't even been aware he'd drifted to sleep until he was staring up at the red hair of a tall man.

"Well, you're looking as miserable as usual, Malfoy."

"And you're looking as freckly as always, Weasley."

Ron chuckled before pulling an old stool made of rotting wood out to sit on next to Draco's usual spot on the floor.

"How've you been holding up then?" He asked as he always did. Ron visited him at least once a week without fail, if not more often, always encouraging him to eat and try to be healthy, trying to cheer him up, telling him what day it was, when his trial was coming up, how many people supported Draco and how they wouldn't rest until he was free; generally Ronald Weasley informed Draco of all the ways he was trying to sabotage Draco's quest for punishment.

"Better than you have, I expect. You might want to lay off the bacon, Weasley, you're not a teenager anymore."

Ron laughed again. It didn't seem to matter what Draco said, Ron always found him to be entertaining. So typically Draco would shut up and Ron would rattle of a list of things Draco either did not want to hear or wished hadn't happened.

"…And there's a new chief of the Wizengamot, Bones, she's one of the Order, very fair, so your chances are looking pretty good for the trial."

Draco groaned and opened his eyes to be met by a stern look from Ron.

"Listen, Draco. I know that you're in here to punish yourself for the rest of eternity. But if you have committed any crimes, the years you've spent in here have more than paid for them. If you want to continue this crusade, you're welcome to live a shitty life outside of prison, but this is getting to the point of ridiculousness. You were on our side. You helped us win. You don't belong with all of these gits," he motioned to the other cells.

"Thanks, Weasley. You're always a fountain full of repetitive advice. Now, if that's all, you can go."

Ron stood up slowly and turned to leave the cell. As he walked out and the cell door magically rattled closed, he turned around.

"I asked her to come see you again." He said softly.

Draco froze. "I told you to stop doing that." He whispered back to Ron.

"She needs some kind of closure, Draco. You're the only one that can explain why you did what you did."

Draco stood up. "I have explained it to her. She knows. She just doesn't like it, she refuses to believe it, refuses to believe I'm not some kind of bloody angel. I'm not as bloody good as everyone seems to think I am, alright? I'm no hero. I don't want her here. She came here when I first turned myself in and I explained everything to her. I'll only repeat what I told her before, and she will continue to hate me or not believe me. And if you think me seeing her will make me shut up, you're wrong. So for everyone's sake, stop fucking asking her to come see me!" He screamed, and picked up the stool Ron had vacated, throwing it at Ron.

Ron stepped back as it hit the bars, the rotted wood breaking into pieces. He gave Draco one more long look before slowly walking away.

000

Ron walked in the door to find Hermione sitting on the couch, looking nervous.

She jumped a little when she noticed him, "Ron," she exhaled his name.

He looked at her, perplexed, "Yes?"

She looked down at her hands. "Well, I've been thinking about what you said, and I think…I think you're right. Maybe I should go see him. It's been a long time, and I…I have a different life now. Everyone else has seen him so often, encouraging him, so why shouldn't I?"

Ron stood, unmoving and silent.

Hermione stared at him. "Ron? This is what you wanted, right? If you don't think I should anymore I won't but you keep bringing it up so maybe you're right, maybe it's time. I have no reason not to, right?"

Ron tried to smile, "Right."

000

She was nervous, practically sweating though it was cold and drafty in the prison. She walked down the hallways, unaccompanied by Ron, having begged him off, saying she needed to do this alone. He had looked wary of it, but she had been relentless. She stopped at his cell, 342, and it magically slid open for her. Draco sat against the far wall, his body facing her though his head drooped and he only groggily responded to the rattling of the door. She was quiet.

"What, no quips on my appearance, Weasl-"he stopped when he noticed that the tall redheaded man he was expecting was not the person in his cell.

"Hermione," he breathed.

"Hello, Draco," she said, tightly, as if his name hurt coming out of her mouth.

"What- What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. Everyone else seems to keep coming, trying to help, I thought this time it might as well be me, right?"

"Right…" he muttered to himself.

They sat quietly for a few moments, but eventually she couldn't help herself.

"Draco…why are you still here? Why are you doing this to yourself? They've offered you so many deals."

He looked up at her. "Why? Because I want to be here. Or is that not good enough a reason for you?"

She looked at him, fire flashing in her eyes. "Don't get smart with me. You know it's not a good enough reason. Why the hell do you want to be in this hole? No one wants to put you in here, if you truly want to be miserable go do it elsewhere. You're just taking up everyone's time with this nonsense."

He looked back at her stonily. "So you came to tell me that I deserve my misery but I should be miserable in some cave?"

She sniffed. "Well if you want to put it that way."

He rolled his eyes at her. "How typical, worried about the taxpayer's galleon."

"You know it's more than that," she murmured.

"Don't," he warned.

"Don't what, Draco? I don't understand. You were perfectly happy to run off, what could you possibly want with the justice system now? You could have evaded them for years, not that it's much to evade the charges are merely formalities, no one wants you locked up except for you. I can't say I don't mind you being miserable considering our personal history but I hardly think you're beating yourself up over me, you made it pretty clear that you never gave a damn about me."

"You're right, Granger, I never did. Get over yourself, the only reason you're here is out of some warped sense of duty."

"That is completely untrue!"

"Is it? Were you going to ask me why I ran? Why I broke it off with you? Were you hoping the answer would be different now that the wars over? Guess what, Granger. Nothing has changed. All the answers remain the same. So you can feel like shit all over again because you don't like what I have to say. I didn't do those things because I was noble or trying to save you or anyone else. They were purely selfish. Don't even try to convince yourself otherwise."

"I don't even know you any more…" She whispered, horrified.

"You're more right than you even know."

000

It wasn't right to let Hermione trust him so completely. She would never know, though. Draco would never do anything to let her know, but it wasn't right for her to love him so much when he only loved the idea of her. And he did love the idea. The idea of being on the nicer side of the fight, of having such passionate and peaceful beliefs, of falling in love with the Juliet of his life and them ending up together, happily ever after. He relished the future this idea could give him if it took form. A happy home, children in a free world, a wife that doted on him, a chance to be the father he never had. But the nagging never went away because he knew that he could have all of this, if he kept on this path he was on, the one that had led him to this bed, but it would not be with a woman he loved. It would be with a friend, certainly, with a woman who loved him, but he was lying to himself if he thought that he loved her back, if he thought that she was the one. She wasn't. She had been a great help. She had broken him in, shown him how to be a real person instead of the shell he'd been used to inhabiting. And for all the brains he knew she had, she trusted him too easily. Though he promised himself he would never break her trust because of all she had done for him, after she had given him hope for the future; he knew it was hypocritical to promise this. Because his heart would never be hers and their lives together would just be lies, and that was the biggest break of trust of all. He would try though. He would give her everything he could, for as long as he could, but his heart would always be hollow, just like it always had been. These miserable thoughts made him wonder if love even existed, or was it always so one sided, so fake? Did people forge their lives together because they wanted that one unique person or because they just didn't want to be alone, because they wanted intimacy with someone who was good enough, because what were the chances of you finding anyone better anyways? Maybe if he told himself he was in love with her enough times it would become the truth.

000

"And how did Draco become part of the Order of the Phoenix, Miss Granger?"

"We developed a relationship in school, we both worked together as prefects and I guess he trusted me more than the others; well, actually I guess it started before that. Yes, much before that. Harry, Ron and I were on the grounds of Hogwarts, I was watching them play Quidditch, and we heard yells coming from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. By the time we got to the tree line, there was only Malfoy, er Draco. It looked as if he'd been tortured; he had several bruises and cuts, not to mention he looked as if he had been the recipient of a few Cruciatus Curses. He could barely speak, and we brought him back to the castle, whereupon he begged not to be taken to the hospital wing, and for us to keep this secret. He offered no explanation as to the injuries, but we from the muttering he did while slipping in and out of consciousness we gathered it had been his father. I guess that's when he began to trust us, when we kept his secret and gave him the small amount of medical attention we could muster. I don't know whether he trusted me more or if it was out of convenience but we became acquaintances, and then friends, and somewhere along there he became a spy for the order. He told me he had lived his life doing as he was told and living on pride and that all he needed was the opportunity to be brave enough to fight back. For almost a year he was given no information, he only gathered it. He saw no one from the Order except for me, Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore. We never received any bad information; everything he told us was confirmed. He finally was given access to our headquarters and met more members and was an integral part of several missions. He…he saved my life as well as several other Order members many times. I don't know what we would have done without him."

"Thank you, Miss Granger. No further questions from Mr. Malfoy's defense."

A short squat man with oily black hair and a matching mustache stood. He couldn't have been taller than 4 feet, but he exuded some sort of power nonetheless. He looked smug, probably because this was the only case he had ever had where the person he was prosecuting was also helping him prosecute. Mr. Malfoy had never met with the wizards trying to defend him, but he did occasionally tell Mr. Moragan things to help build the case against himself, and while half of it was impossible to prove, some of it had enough foundation in truth to pick at. Mr. Moragan was the only wizard in the Ministry who had dared to take the case, and he thought it would be one of the easiest wins he could have; the defendant did not want to be defended.

"Hermione. May I call you Hermione? Isn't it true that though he saved several Order members, a few also died as a result of the information given to you by Mr. Malfoy?"

"Well he couldn't have known—"

"Yes or no, Hermione. Several Order members died because the information given to you by Mr. Malfoy was not sufficient enough to save their lives?"

"Yes," she ground out of her locked jaw.

"Yes, yes, and isn't it true that you and Mr. Malfoy became much more than just friends throughout the course of this story you just told us?"

"Yes," she replied, eyeing him wearily.

"Isn't it also true that without informing anyone from the Order, without making any preparations, without warning any of you, without the slightest hint, he just picked up and left? He abandoned you, the woman you all claimed he loved, abandoned these friends he had allegedly saved. Not only that but he gave your whereabouts to the Death Eaters. Had you not had another spy working within the opposition you might have all been killed."

"We weren't killed though."

"But it's true, is it not? Mr. Malfoy left you all without saying a word, and gave you up to the Death Eaters. Whether he rejoined with them or not has yet to be determined, but he gave them a vital piece of information that could have destroyed you, did he not? Yes or no, Miss Granger."

"Yes," she ground out, clearly irritated.

"Thank you, Miss Granger."

000

"Mr. Weasley, please explain to the Wizengamot and your peers why Draco might have acted traitorously."

"Well, first of all, he didn't act very traitorously at all. Draco knew we had other spies in the Death Eaters, including one that was placed very high up. If he had really wanted to kill us all he would have ratted those men out or at the very least detained them so they couldn't warn us. We also found out his cover had been blown, and giving up our headquarters was his last chance to save it. An old classmate had seen him with Hermione and I guess all it took was that to set things off. We later found out that Voldemort himself threatened to personally torture and kill Hermione if Draco was found out to be a spy, and that really hit something inside Draco. Hermione and Draco were practically engaged at that point, he would have done anything to save her. He tried to save his cover, which didn't work because we hadn't been warned soon enough to help him save his cover; we only had to time to get out. In a time of war, during that time, as everyone knows, you don't have time. If you're a spy there is constant action, you are constantly making decisions and doing what you think is best. We're all human, we've all made mistakes, and some mistakes cost more than others, but let me be clear: none of Draco Malfoy's mistakes have cost enough for him to be imprisoned for life. He'd like for you to believe that because he seems to think that the blame of the entire war rests entirely on his shoulders, but it doesn't. I know it and all of you know it, the deaths were because of Voldemort and his prejudices, and those that believed in them. Draco was in love with my best friend, a Muggleborn. He obviously did not share those prejudices. And anything he did that might have been wrong, he made up for by being a spy for the Order, and all the years in Azkaban more than cover every sin he has committed in his life. The only reason we are even having this trial is because he is not mentally well enough to realize that the problems of the world were not caused by him. He's just one man. He doesn't realize it, but his actions were just a grain of sand on the beach."

000

"You're testifying against yourself tomorrow."

Draco looked up at the wild haired woman in front of him.

"I thought I told you not to come back here again."

She sighed. "You are being ridiculous, haven't you learned anything from any of the tens of testimonies you've heard over the past few days, from all the evidence, or in the prosecution's case, lack of? There is nothing to prove that you are a bad person except for what you say. There's not even a Death Eater who will back up your story."

"Probably because they know I want to stay here and they don't want me to get what I want," he muttered.

"And why do you want to stay in here so much again?" she asked, her voice pointed. "Because you feel guilty? I think seven years in Azkaban is a good enough punishment for your mistakes."

"I'd hardly call them mistakes, but I suppose you'll find out tomorrow when I testify, won't you?"

"I want to find out now. I know I'm not imagining things when I look back on how things were and see a few moments of happiness. And I know…I know it meant something different for you than it did for me, you've made that clear, but you were happy at times, weren't you?"

"I shouldn't talk about the case against me with you."

"Oh, right, because you won't talk to anyone that wants to defend you. Don't incriminate yourself, Draco, leave it alone, I know where you're going and I can't relive it so please just let it go."

"Sounds like you're asking me to lie, Granger."

She scoffed. "You can't lie to the Wizengamot,"

He laughed. "Granger, if you only knew." He rubbed his face, "Just spit it out, what do you want?"

"I came to ask you not to—"

"Don't, Granger. I am testifying. Don't even ask. If that's all you came for, leave."

"Draco, please don't tell them—"

"I said, GET OUT!" He shouted, standing up and running towards her. She took a frightened step back as a guard shouted "Stupefy!" and he was on the ground before she had time to react any further. She was ushered out of the cell as he was tossed unceremoniously onto his cot, his face still twisted into a hateful expression.

000

"Mr. Malfoy, you realize that you are testifying against yourself, for the prosecution, in direct opposition to the advice your defense has given you?"

"I do."

"And you have promised to tell only the truth during this testimony?"

"I have."

"And you have agreed that if, at any time, the Wizengamot decides that you are being untruthful, Veritaserum shall be administered to you, without objection?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, please begin."

His voice was empty, devoid of all emotion; his years of isolation and self-evaluation had left his voice without a hint of it.

"It's true; I was a spy for the Order. I helped out when I could, passed some information to them, though it was hardly ever helpful, I was rather low on the chain within the Death Eaters, I was hardly ever privy to much information anyways. The few times I did have anything valuable I was too afraid to divulge the entirety of my knowledge to the Order, I was afraid it could be linked back to me and my cover would be blown. Looking back, it couldn't have been, but I was a scared little boy. I could have prevented the deaths of Amos Diggory, Fred Weasley, and Remus Lupin, among others, if I had divulged all I knew. And yes, my cover was blown, but it was blown before I gave away the Order's headquarters. It wasn't some last ditch effort to save myself, I gave it up willingly. They told me they would kill me if I didn't prove myself useful to them. So I did. I still didn't have a lot of information on the Order, they rightfully had never trusted me with much, so I couldn't help them there, but they wanted a hostage, and with my access to the headquarters I could provide one for them. At that point I was under heavy suspicion within the Order, something they all have neglected to tell you, so I was rather isolated, except for Hermione. Our…relationship… was what allowed me to kidnap her. We had recently broken up, though we hadn't told anyone yet, I had told her I didn't love her, that she was a nice piece of ass and that having a girlfriend was fun but she just wasn't the one. She was devastated. In order to lure her into a situation where we would be alone I told her I was sorry and wanted to get back together. Her trust in me was to the point that it blinded her, I'm sure I never could have kidnapped her otherwise. She doesn't like to speak of it, none of them do, but she doesn't even know the half of it."

Draco chanced a look up at the crowds. Hushed chatter began to fill the court room at the announcement of such a wild act. No one had heard of Hermione Granger being kidnapped. The press was titillated. But Draco wasn't focused on them, no; he was looking for a specific face in the crowd. He found it right next to Ron's weary look. Hermione, attempting to look stony, was slowly melting into anger and mortification. He knew that this had all been hushed up for a reason. It was an embarrassment, now she looked like a liar in front of the entire Wizarding community, along with the rest of the Order. But he had only just begun.

"She's aware, of course, of all the torture she was the recipient of, and she remembers being raped countless times. Once by me, though she was unconscious then and still unaware of that fact now, but it was mostly by my father and a few of his friends while she was awake; they were particularly fond of being complete pigs. What she is not aware of is that when they, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, found her, I was there. I told them what had happened, excluding myself as a participant. I gave a false explanation, claiming we had been out together and had gotten caught by an old Slytherin classmate, a new recruit to the Death Eaters trying to move up in the circle. I said we had been imprisoned separately. Potter left to get help; they had attacked the mansion she was being held at successfully, there were Order members and Aurors crawling on the main floor. Weasley still trusted me, to keep his trust, I told him the truth about her condition, that she was pregnant, a fact that they would have found out eventually anyways."

The chatter was becoming less and less hushed. He paused to look at their faces again. What idiots, letting their emotions show so clearly. They said no one would corroborate his story? If anyone paid attention enough to look at their faces they would know he was telling the truth. Hermione was frozen, her hand, once clasped to Ron's in support, was stiffly locked in his hand as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Ron look stoic, but his face was flaming with anger, anger directed at Malfoy. That was the real reason Weasley had continued to visit Malfoy in Azkaban, not out of friendship, but to secure his silence. Well Draco had promised nothing to anyone. He would tell the truth, because damn it, what was the point otherwise. He wanted his judgment now, he didn't want to wait until he died to find out if there was a God and if he would be forgiven for his sins, he wanted his punishment during a lifetime that had a definitive ending. No one would stop him.

"Weasley, was of course, upset. While she was recovering he found a way to make sure her pregnancy would be aborted without her knowing; I was the only other person who knew of her condition or what he had done. I don't think he thought she would be able to handle the truth, so he solved the problem himself. While informing Weasley of what had happened to her I let slip too much information, inadvertently letting him know facts that pointed to only one conclusion; that I had not only known but participated, and no one had forced me, I had gone above and beyond trying to convince the Death Eaters I was still one of them. I think he kept my secret because I knew his. The Order still trusted me at this point, although I still had no information and the Dark Lord was becoming impatient with me. The hostage situation had turned out to be a liability instead of an asset, his headquarters had been found and they were on the run. This was when I told them of the Order's headquarters. I told him there were other spies in his organization, though I didn't know their names, so he should move swiftly, telling as few as possible. Obviously whoever the Dark Lord did entrust with the information warned the Order because the house was empty upon their arrival. After that disappointment, I ran. The Order knew I was the one who had turned them in, they would find out I had been the one to kidnap Granger, and now the Death Eaters wanted to kill me since I was no longer of use. In trying to get away I manipulated, tortured, and killed to get what I wanted. I wasn't trying to save anyone except for myself. Once the war was over I planned to keep evading the world, but then I found out that you all were touting me as some sort of hero. How laughable. Don't you people know what I've done? Don't you know who I am?" He was sneering at them all.

"Not only by lack of being completely honest did I get people killed, but of my own volition I killed. I tortured by choice. I performed Unforgiveables without being forced to. I wasn't trying to save anyone but myself. I thought everyone knew, but I guess Weasley was still trying to keep his dirty little secret so he led everyone to believe I had only acted in the best interest of the Order. He didn't know me and Granger broke up, so maybe he thought I actually did love her, that I would never tell the truth because I wouldn't want to cause her any more pain. He probably thinks he's doing me a favor by freeing me, but I don't care about being free. I would have been skulking in the shadows for the rest of my life while you all believed a lie, so I'm here to set things straight."

He looked back up, but Hermione was gone. Ron still stood there though. He looked upset, but his anger was no longer directed so forcefully on Draco. In fact, when they made eye contact, he could have sworn he saw Ron shoot him a sneering smile.

000

After his testimony, he was sure they would never let him go. He would be locked up forever, just as he deserved. He sat, almost smugly, awaiting his judgment. They had all seen him for what he truly was. Not a human, not a monster, but a nobody, a nothing, a hollow shell of a creature that didn't deserve freedom but that they wouldn't feel bad about locking up because he was nothing. He just existed. Hopefully some of them would see him as a monster, though he was sure Ron had tried very hard to color their opinions of him in a rosy shade, he had tried his damnedest to reverse that with his testimony, and now waiting in his chained chair, he tried to look as horrible and as sinister as possible, drawing on his years of knowing his father, of being around Death Eaters, of acting and pretending, on every possible ounce of imagination and artistry he tried to make himself look like the devil he knew himself to be. He had been preparing himself for this for years. This was it, after this he could be left to rot in peace. He would be charged in the eyes of the Wizarding World as one of the bad guys, and no one, for the rest of time, would be able to pretend that he had been good, that he was something to pity. The world would know, he would be officially labeled, and he could punish himself in peace. He had come to terms with how the rest of his life would be and now he only needed the world to do the same.

"Well, after one more last minute testimony after the defendants, an almost unanimous vote and very little debate,"

Who gave the last minute testimony? Not that it mattered. It had been unanimous. This was it. They all knew him as a monster. The world knew the truth. His judgment had come.

"It is clear that, in light of your testimony, you don't think you deserve to be free,"

Damn right he didn't deserve it. He was glad someone finally understood.

"We see you as a seriously disturbed young man, Mr. Malfoy,"

He was disturbed, seriously disturbed, and if they agreed on that, then that meant…

"And that is why we have come to the conclusion that,"

Hallelujah, they were going to label him a criminal.

Halle- "Upon being set free-" -lujah.

"WHAT?" He roared, desperately trying to break the chains that had him tied to the chair, the first time he had fought imprisonment in almost 7 years.

"That upon being set free you will be released into the custody of one Ronald Bilius Weasley per his request during his second testimony after your rather colorful one. Mr. Weasley will escort you to St. Mungo's biweekly for six months in order for you to talk to some of the best staff available until you are deemed to be no longer a danger to yourself and others."

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" He bellowed. "I AM A CRIMINAL, I BELONG IN AZKABAN! I TOLD THE TRUTH YOU BASTARDS! WEASLEY DID THIS ON PURPOSE! DON'T YOU DARE LET ME GO!"

It took four Aurors to successfully and safely restrain and sedate him so that he could be led from the chamber without incident.

Ron stood resolutely, Hermione's engagement ring clutched tightly in his fist, the stone cutting into his hand.


	2. Epilogue

**AN: Surprise! An epilogue!**

* * *

><p>They stood in the hallway of the Wizengamot court. The crowd had cleared. The remaining Order members had left, all of Ron's friends and family were at home, and the press was long gone. Ron had been filling out paperwork the entire time while Draco had been in the custody of some Ministry Law Enforcement officials, but now it was just Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy in the empty, cold hallway. Staring at each other, measuring one another up, they both were trying to imagine the next six months of their lives together.<p>

Draco broke the silence first.

"Screw you, Weasley. Why the hell would you do that?"

"I couldn't have you getting what you wanted," the redhead shrugged nonchalantly, as if the answer should have been obvious to Draco from the start.

"Really? I want to go to Azkaban, and that's not good enough a punishment for me? Being out here is the right way to punish me? With all this sunshine and freedom? It's a real god damn nightmare I'm living in now, Weasley," Malfoy attempted to be snarky with his comeback, but his tone was bitter and cold.

Ron stood and pursed his lips, debating whether or not he should expose his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.

"I know that you want everyone to think that you're a monster, but I want to make sure you get the exact opposite. After the stunt you pulled back in the court room, telling everyone the truth when I asked you not to, I wanted to make sure people would go on worshipping you as their unlikely savior forever so that even after you die you won't get any rest. You'll be rolling over in your grave every time someone praises your name. Besides, with all the terrible things you've done, if they still think you're a hero, they'll definitely still remember me as one, even if your story can be proven. Even if you did tell the entire bloody Wizarding population the biggest damn secret I've ever kept, you wanker."

He said the last bit with venom, but his body language displayed none of it. Because even though Ron Weasley was fuming that Draco Malfoy had told the entire world that he had been lying to his fiancé for years, lying to the Order, he knew that Malfoy was miserable with the outcome. And if he was going to be hated by Hermione, then so would Draco Malfoy; at least he had made sure of that much.

And Malfoy was miserable. As much as he thought he might have been able to love Hermione, he was essentially a selfish person, as he always had been. He had been selfish in taking Hermione's love and trust and now he was being selfish by hurting her in such a blunt and uncaring manner. But he couldn't even bring about enough decency to feel terrible about it. He had performed awful acts during the war, horrid things. He didn't deserve happiness and he had set out to make sure that not only would he be denied happiness permanently, but that no one would ever remember him in a good light. Sure, he had turned spy for the Order during the war, but did that take back the murders or tortures or rapes or any other heinous crimes he had committed throughout the war? Certainly not. And the fact that people were willing to forgive him for it was appalling. Ignorance was how the entire damn war had started. He was a criminal but no one wanted to treat him like one. So he had tried his damnedest to make sure they would. He had exposed all the secrets, all the crimes, the terrors. And still they brushed it off.

He had shown them, though, that at some point in the war he had become so twisted and warped by trying to pretend to enjoy those intolerable acts that he _had_ actually enjoyed it. He had enjoyed having power over others and being the one to control their pain and the essential part of their soul, of their lives; their lives were in his grasp. He had killed without being told, because it was easier, and he rejoiced when they were dead, just like all the others. When the war was over and he was left with those memories, how was he supposed to just go on living and loving? He wasn't. So maybe Hermione had gotten hurt by him telling the truth. But she deserved to know in the first place, they should have never lied. And he had to make sure they all knew for a fact that his moral code was an absolute zero. During the war he had played both sides, and done what he had needed to do to stay alive, and no more. He was no hero.

Besides, he had never deserved her. He'd always known that. He hadn't even wanted her that badly, the way you should want someone you claimed to love. And he knew she'd held onto him long after he had disappeared. She was a good enough person that she deserved to be happy someday. She never could though, if she lived in denial and confusion and kept on loving the diseased being he had become. If she kept loving a man that had never and would never be able to love her the way she loved him, it would destroy her eventually.

It had just been his god damn luck that Weasley knew what he was after, and that Weasley hated him enough to make sure he wouldn't get it. Instead all he'd done was fuck up Weasley's love life and make him even more vengeful, and devastate the one girl Draco had ever came close to loving or caring about, the one girl who had given him an ounce of real humanity. He almost laughed bitterly though, because he had at least succeeded in making himself more miserable, even if everyone who didn't matter still thought he was a hero.

It wasn't like his new, 'free' life would be nice, either. He was living with this slimy Weasel who had proved even before the trial that he was a lying little rodent who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted. He was probably all over the media. Yes, Ronald Weasley was probably busy making sure the press knew what a good little boy Draco was being and how they were getting along grand, just grand, and Draco was a little bit mad, after all- who would believe that crazy testimony he had given? And no, no, Ron and Hermione were just extending their engagement a little longer, after all it had been an emotional experience and now Ron had a deranged and ill man to look after, to live with, and it wouldn't be proper to have Hermione around her ex-beau-hero-turned-madman, would it? No, not proper at all. He had too many responsibilities to handle; there was too much emotional baggage for Hermione, too much for Ron to do to be able to handle a fiancé on top of it all.

Ron was a lying, sleazy, slimy little git, and he would get away with it all. But at least Draco was miserable. He'd gotten that much hadn't he? He may still be a hero, but he was labeled a deranged one, now. And he had six months of hell to look forward to.

Yes, at least he was miserable.

* * *

><p><strong>AN2: Some of you expressed confusion about the reasons behind the actions of some characters. I hope this clears up a little of your confusion!<strong>


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